Long before the likes of Tiwa Savage, Waje, Seyi Shay, Omawawumi and the likes, there was Azeezat Niniola Allen. Respected for her vocal prowess and her unique African hairstyle, she paved the way for the present crop of Nigerian female contemporary singers to thrive with her late 90s and early 2000s hit songs such as “Lonely World,” “Hold On,” “Keregbe” and many more. A graduate of Mass Communication from the Moshood Abiola polytechnic, in Ogun state, Azeezat has been married to her manager, Seyi Allen. MORAKINYO OLUGBIJI had a chat with her
How did you discover your music talent?
I didn’t discover music. I started by writing songs. As a matter of fact, by the time I was 13, I was already a published writer. I wrote poems and songs and got published by Lagos Horizon. After then, I had cousins coming around, and we were trying to entertain ourselves and we started singing popular songs, then I think it was a Pepsi, 7-Up or Coca-Cola advert, and every time I sang it, my cousins were like ‘she’s the winner.’ That was how, gradually, the knowledge of my talent came to me.
How was your journey to success in the music industry?
The journey between when I discovered my talent and when Nigeria discovered me was a very long one. When I was in secondary school I started doing little literary and debating performances. In higher institution, I joined a group, West Coast Family, and we did a lot of campus and club shows until we broke up after which there was a kind of a long break. During that long break, I did a lot of research and grooming for myself by rescoring international songs and trying to fit my voice into what I was hearing. A lot of people also gave me advice that I followed. That was in Abeokuta. Eventually, I told myself, if you have to do this thing, you have to do it with God. So I went into fasting and praying, and God did not answer my prayer until like two or three years after I came to Lagos. By chance, they told me Ayo Animashaun was organising something. My neighbour was his client and Ayo came to his house and he told Ayo I was the girl he had been telling him about. So that’s how I got involved with Girls’ Nite Out, which I did not win. I cried like a baby, but I met my manager and the professional journey started in earnest.
You have had a lot of performances. Which is your greatest so far?
I have had a lot of great ones. I have had a lot of great performances, but I think I remember when I opened for Femi Kuti at the first-ever MTN Y’ellofest. The performance that is really embedded in my heart is the one that I had at Goethe Institute and the late Ambassador Olusola blessed me. I have it on tape and every time I look at it, I feel like ‘yeah.’
When you came into the industry many years ago, what did you actually want to achieve?
Greatness. Greatness has classes, forms and levels, but greatness.
What level of greatness? Did you want to go all the way or to a certain extent?
Even the people that want to go halfway will not tell you that they want to go halfway. Some people will tell you that they want to go all the way, and of course, by the time your belly starts singing from hunger, you will settle for less. But I think I have paid enough dues to go all the way.
What is your take on why female artists find it difficult to be successful here, unlike in Europe and America?
Well, honestly, even in America and Europe, if you calculate the percentage of female artists compared to their male counterparts, you will know that males are also more there. I am a die-hard fan of Naija, and I don’t like it when people bring Naija down and compare it to US or UK. As it happens here, it happens there. It is just that the scale could be higher. Number one, I wouldn’t say females don’t have a voice, compared to then. We have a voice now, strong voices that are heard. We are being heard. It could be better, because some girls allow us to be labelled as wack. I am not being judgemental, but such girls don’t do their homework well before coming out.
Could you tell us more about your background?
I’m an indigene of Owu in Abeokuta, Ogun state. But I’m a true Nigerian, because I’ve been everywhere. I grew up in Surulere, Lagos. However, I was born on the Island at The Island Maternity hospital, but I grew up on the Mainland, Shitta to be precise.
Everybody knows that Shitta is one of the most notorious places in Lagos. How come your lifestyle and composure does not betray that you grew up there?
I will attribute that to my upbringing, the way I was brought up. I was groomed under very strict Islamic background. The way I was nurtured is responsible for why I don’t behave as such.
You have a peculiar hairstyle. Why do you like to make your hair this way?
When I was starting out, I realised that I needed to have an identity, something that would stand me out from the rest of the crowd. So I arrived at the thought of making my hair unusual. That was how that hairstyle came about.
You are married to Seyi Allen, who is also your manager. How do you draw the line between your love relationship and business?
First of all what I don’t do is draw a line. I don’t put myself in the position where I separate. Seyi Allen is first of all my oga. I just don’t separate the roles, but I know that he is first and foremost my manager. Either he is my manager at home or in the office, but I know that he is my manager. He gives the rules, makes the laws and he is the man, so I have to respect him as the man anytime, anywhere.
How have you been able to keep your marriage out of the public eye? What’s the secret?
Trust is the word here; my husband trusts me. And because he knows the kind of woman I am, he doesn’t have any reason to monitor my movement. Likewise, I trust him too and it is the glory of God, really. I won’t say further than that. It’s not by my own making. I just give God the glory.
